the ties that bind
by destructoxgirl
Summary: Donna goes to visit Mike at Danbury federal prison to ask for help with the increasing severity and frequency of Harvey's anxiety attacks but finds herself in trouble when a familiar face seeks to even the score.
1. Chapter 1

She goes to Danbury on a Tuesday.

It is a Tuesday just like any other except it is the seventh that has passed since everything went to hell. The seventh week she has worked to repair the very thing that used to bind them. The forty-third day she has spent watching those she loves suffer and sweat yet still drift away as though their strings have been cut. So, today on the forty-fourth – she goes to Danbury.

She goes because she cannot live another second so filled up with worry that she feels she might burst. She cannot step foot in the ghost town that is Pearson Specter Litt and know without a doubt that _he will still be there._ She hasn't seen him leave in days - hasn't heard his voice spare a few times. She cannot bear to see the look on his face once more as she rounds the corner into his office and catches him clutching his chest, tie loosened and hanging around his neck like the albatross that is his guilt, sweat dripping down his face and his eyes – _those eyes –_ wild and panicked. She knows she cannot stand the shame in his eyes when he realizes she has seen. Worst of all, each time their eyes meet she cannot help but hear his agonized words rising up from her memory.

" _Because it's my god damn fault! "_

She goes because she fears that the ties that used to bind them all will strangle _him_. Fears that she will lose the man she loves and has always loved, even if he is so broken that he cannot give her _the everything_ he doesn't believe he deserves. She isn't foolish enough to think that the mourning period for losing your best friend and the very thing that embodied the accumulation of your life's work in one fell swoop isn't longer than the average. On the contrary, she expected Harvey to be marked by this forever. She did not expect to watch him disappear before her eyes a little more each day that passes.

But, despite the crippling fear that grips her each time she looks at him, it isn't Harvey haunting her dreams anymore. It is the _puppy._ His face appears amongst flashes of concrete and cold metal. His voice punctuating the gruff voices, expletives and the sounds of violence. She dreams of him as a small child - _the sickening crunch of metal and of bone_ \- his parents gone in an instant. She dreams of him as a grown man, his grandmother taken before he has the chance to say goodbye. She sees him as a loyal man – _the man he is_ \- whose dreams and shot at Harvard are taken away by someone he considered his closest friend. She sees the brilliant, compassionate _lawyer._ A friend, her friend… and his. Perhaps the first real one Harvey has ever had and certainly the only that he has ever loved like a son. Lastly, and without a doubt the most heartbreaking, she remembers him as a groom – his beautiful wife sobbing behind his back as he turns and walks towards his fate. That is the image that she sees most often when she closes her eyes. The sound of Rachel's sorrow is her likely lullaby when the exhaustion finally wins and she drifts away.

People used to tell her that her strength, compassion and capacity to love were her greatest assets. These days she feels as though they may be the end of her. So, to _Danbury._ For the puppy and for _him –_ for help and though she would never admit it, a little bit for her as well.

* * *

He shouldn't really be surprised that she appears just when he needs someone the most. That's her trademark after all – that intuitive way that she can read a person and know what it is that they are hiding and what it is that they need _most._ Though, if he is being honest with himself, he is a little bit disappointed that her face is the first that appears from the world he left behind. It's been seven long, lonely weeks. Seven weeks of unanswered phone calls and unopened letters. Seven weeks since he has looked into the big, brown eyes of the woman who was supposed to be his wife. He is desperate to get that look of hurt and disappointment out of his head – desperate to replace that memory with something – _anything_ \- else. Something he can hold on too to get him through the weeks to come. On second thought, perhaps he should be happy that it is Donna and not his scorned fiancé sitting in front of him…

"Don't they have razors in the commissary? " Donna starts, cutting into his thoughts, one manicured eyebrow arched high. Mike runs a hand loosely over his chin, over the dark stubble that had accumulated and shakes his head.

"Sharp edged objects are sort of frowned upon in here. " He replies sardonically.

She takes that in for a moment in silence, giving him the opportunity to observe her for once. He can tell his comment has thrown her off balance. She isn't the same unshakeable Donna that he remembers – not by a long shot.

"How is she? " He asks, though he knows already knows the answer and can't explain what prompts him to ask. She just tilts her head ever so slightly to the right as if she is just seeing him for the first time.

"This place is dulling that hot shot brain of yours if you have to ask me that. "

He deserves that. Deserves all of it.

"And Harvey? "

She falters. Her eyes well with unshed emotion, a single tear dropping down onto her alabaster skin. She swipes at it impatiently - _angrily, he thinks -_ and laces her fingers on the table in front of them as if seeking to hold on to what shred of composure she has left. Mike watches them tremble atop of the cold expanse of metal. Inwardly, he curses himself. He should've known of all the things to make her break…

"Harvey is _lost._ They all are. " She finishes. " That's not the only reason I'm here, you know. "

He nods, conceding. He knows but again, for her to ask the question would be pointless. He is so very far from okay and they both know it.

"He's having panic attacks again. Nearly every day. Maybe more –… I don't know. He hides them from me. He can't focus! He never leaves. He doesn't work, doesn't try-... he is just there. Just existing. The firm is… " She wavers again, casts her eyes up to take in Mike's face – pauses, perhaps remembering the lie that had got them here before continuing. " Well, there's nothing left. No one. Rachel hasn't been back. Jessica and Louis have been canvassing clients, trying to reach out to everyone that left… The things they're saying about him… He blames himself, Mike. I know he does. He thinks he ruined your life. "

" He didn't-... That couldn't be farther from the truth. " Mike cuts in earnestly. " If anything, it's the other way around. "

" I'm-… I'm afraid we're going to lose him. Afraid that I'm going to lose him. "

She stops again, unable to continue. They sit in silence as he processes, feels some of the weight she has been carrying around with her every day since he walked behind these gates. He was so stupid – so _selfish_ to think that he was the only one suffering. Why should the real world stop turning just because he placed his on pause?

"Donna, I'm-… "

Out of the corner of his eye, Mike glimpses movement – a figure in orange approaching quickly. Mike surveys his surroundings. There is one guard in the room, standing by the door. At least eleven inmates, all eyes on Donna – including the imposing man approaching. Donna is oblivious at first, rummaging through her purse for a tissue until a hand reaches out to caress her hair.

"Well, hello red. "

Mike rockets to his feet as Donna recoils, eyes settling on the figure in front of her. She is shaken, stumbling backwards out of her chair, bracing herself against the wall behind her. All colour has left her face. The last person she expected to see today was him.

"You. " She spits. "What the hell are you doing here? "

Stephen smiles, a grotesque smile that seems too big for his face and much too jovial for their surroundings. He looks like a kid on Christmas as he drinks her in. The sight makes Mike sick to his stomach. A single look at the other inmates is all that it takes to confirm his suspicions. Danbury wasn't dulling his mind at all. He knew what was to come.

"Well, I could ask you the same thing but… " He gestures towards Mike. " I don't need to be the great Harvey Specter to figure this one out. I heard you were here, Mr. Ross. Apologies I'm just welcoming you now. I promise it will be worth the wait. "

"Touch her again, and you'll be sorry. " Mike snarls.

"Careful, Mike. You're starting to sound like him. "

"If that's supposed to be an insult-… " He trails off, glancing at the guard who pushes off the wall and approaches cautiously. " You're a bit off your mark. I am his associate, after all. His right hand. I consider that a great compliment. "

Stephen's smile falters and then falls, deepening into a scowl.

"Well now, let's be honest. We're all friends here. You're not an associate at all, isn't that the point? Isn't that why you're in here with all of us in the first place? You're not a lawyer. You never were. "

"He's twice the lawyer _and twice the man_ that you have ever been. " Donna interjects with a hiss, her voice coloured with her repulsion. "And so is Harvey. "

Stephen turns again, raking his eyes over Donna's body. The other inmates have closed in on them now – flanking Stephen. Mike realizes with sudden alarm that two of the inmates have hands on the guard and his radio is laying in pieces at his feet. Mike silently says a prayer to whatever god there is that the guards are watching the surveillance feed.

"Ah, yes. Thank you for reminding me love. Gentlemen! " Stephen yells, hands in the air – one raised and leveled at Donna. " Let me introduce you to the stunning _Mrs._ Harvey Specter… or at least, she wishes she were. You will remember Harvey Specter, eh lads? You see my love, most of these fine, upstanding young men have been put in here by or as a direct result of the actions of that piece of _shit._ "

It doesn't take cunning or a photographic memory to figure it out - their intentions. He knew that Stephen Huntley had been incarcerated at Danbury but he had been naïve enough to think that he might not ever run into him. Nevertheless, Mike knows he only has one shot – the element of surprise. He lunges suddenly and swings with more force than he thought he could muster. He can both feel and hear as he connects, as his knuckles collide with Stephen's jaw. The force of the blow knocks him on his ass, he observes with satisfaction but his victory is short lived as strong hands grip his arms, holding him in place as Stephen gets to his feet. His expression is murderous. He looks quickly between Mike and Donna.

"You even hit a bit like him, Ross. I should know, shouldn't I? But it won't do you any good. You're out numbered and out of your league. " He runs a hand across the spot where Mike connected with his face. " Really, I couldn't have planned this any better. I only meant to come for you – the second most important person in Harvey's life. Imagine my surprise to find the first here as well. Call it a two for one. "

It happens all at once. The guard crumples. One of the inmates grabs Donna roughly from behind. Mike swears, struggling to free himself - unable to stand to the terrified expression on her face. He lunges again. Inexplicably, all he can hear is Harvey's voice in his head, screaming her name. He will be furious. Stephen's fist connects with the back of his head _\- a sucker punch,_ he thinks - and the world dims. He is being hit from all directions. An uppercut to the jaw, a punch in the kidneys. A kick to the ribs, then the head. He can makes out the catcalls of the inmates, punctuated by Stephen's laughter. The last thing he hears is Donna screaming his name...

* * *

The news calls it a riot. Twelve inmates, one guard and a single visitor. It is the only thing to catch Harvey's focus in weeks. He turns towards the sound of the television, his mouth going dry. There, pictured in the small box at the top right of the screen, is Danbury Federal Prison.

"Donna! " He bellows without tearing his eyes off the screen. "DONNA! "

There is no answer. He looks up finally, taking in her empty desk and the time reflected on the clock on the far wall behind it. It is almost 9:30 – no way in hell she wouldn't be here by now. She hadn't left in weeks - hadn't had so much as a snack break since well before the trial. The reporter's commentary intercedes his thoughts, reminding the viewers that Danbury Federal prison is the home to many federal inmates, including most recently that of Pearson Specter Litt's former junior partner, Mike Ross convicted of defrauding the New York City bar association.

"The female visitor currently being held hostage inside the institution with Mr. Ross is purported to be an executive assistant at Ross' former employer, the law firm of Pearson Spector Litt… "

The glass of amber liquid in his grip shatters. The room begins to spin. He feels as though the world has fallen away beneath his feet. He doubles over to catch his breath – glancing quickly at the screen as her beautiful face fills it. His chest constricts and he claws at it, seeking some relief as on the table in front of him, his cellphone comes to life and begins to ring…


	2. two

Authors note: I apologize in advance to those of you waiting for chapter 2 for both the wait and the terrible formatting of this upload. I used the app to update and clearly it has some kinks. I will fix from mycomputer in the morning! Happy reading.

Their response time was unheard of. It had taken only 6 minutes to extract them from the visitation room at Danbury federal prison. Of that, Harvey Specter was absolutely certain. After all, he had watched the security footage,searing the  
timestamps into his brain as a permanent reminder of the hurt that befell those that loved him. He knew they would serve as bookmarks for images that would be kindling for his panic attacks for as long as he would live.6 minutes worse  
than the day his father died - worse by far than his first panic attack. Worse still than his conversation with that jury foreman orthe memory of Rachel's sobs as Ray accelerated towards Mike's fate. It had only been 6 minutes. 6 entire minutes  
in which he watched, _helpless_ , as the two people he loved most in the world were violently brutalized.

01:57:22 - The way they both say his name with such certainty and adoration, as if sure that any moment he will arrive to save them.

 _Harvey is overcome with a rush of pride and gratitude for the man he once called his right hand._

01:59:09 - The sickening crunch of Mike's knuckles as he attempts to distract Huntley and divert the attention away from Donna.

02:00:34 - The moment that she is grabbed from behind, accompanied by a deafening crack as Mike crumples to the floor.

 _Harvey's stomach plummets as he recognizes the man he imprisoned all those years before. He swears he can feel his blood boiling at the mere sight of Frank Gallo's hands on his secretary._

02:00:35 - Donna howls Mike's name, enraged and breaks free to lunge at the man she once shared a bed with.

 _Harvey is struck between admiration and exasperation for this beautiful woman, so willing to expose herself to the face of her greatest betrayal to save Mike._

02:01:00 - Again,that sharp, wet thud resonates as skull and concrete connect and Donna drops to the floor like a doll.

 _Harvey turns over a gurney in the waiting room, so filled with rage and regret that he feels he may combust._

02:01:56 - Donna drags herself a few feet and cradles Mike's head tenderly in her lap, smearing the front of her white silk sheath dress in a jolting red.

 _Rachel arrives at the hospital, pale as death as the tale unfolds before their eyes and she recognizes the faces of her supposed-to-be husband and her best friend._

03:47:59 - The fan of her hair across his face, darkened and matted by blood. His features barely recognizable beneath the curtain of her auburn hair.

04:17:44 - The protective curl of her body as she lay prone across Mike- even as the inmates close in on them again and rough hands with violent intentions claw at her.

 _Harvey has to watch this part 3 times, sure that he is imagining the way she whispers his name - so softly, as if saying a prayer._

04:51:51 - The calm pool of viscous red gathering beneath Mike's head and the unnatural angle of his left leg. The tender way with which Donna tucks her right arm against her and begins to sob.

 _Beside him, Rachel drops to her knees and is sick across the peeling linoleum._

05:04:34 - Gallo looms over Donna, his filthy hands underneath the hem of her dress, trailing up her milky legs.

 _Harvey can feel only the gentle weight of Rachel's hand in his, anchoring him, as they count down the final moments of this nightmare._

05:30:11 - A deafening explosion as smoke fills the room and uniformed officers armed with long guns breach the door.

05:59:57 - Donna's wild screams are the video's crescendo as the officers attempt to pull her free from her position cradling Mike's limp form. The very last sound is from her, sobbing his name.

 _Then there is only static._

All the accounts were consistent. The officer's were sure Mike had saved Donna's life, though his own now hung in the balance. Theguard had been stabbed in the abdomen by a sharp plastic object - a shank - cultivated by the ever patient and meticulous  
Mr. Gallo. A collection of news articles, photographs and journals had been located in a hallowed out brick, concealed by the bed in Stephen Huntley's cell - a road map of his revenge. A multitude of sketches depicting her in great detail - the curve  
of Donna's bare back, the planes of her lithe body. Though faceless, Harvey recognizes them, realizing with a twinge of repugnance that he remembered them in as much detail as Huntley did, even over a decade later. These sketches, though disturbing,  
did not trouble Harvey as much as the content of those journals, where Huntley's memories of his relationship with Donna met his sadism and filled the pages with his twisted plans for them all. It seems that a chance cell assignment with Frank Gallo,  
recently transferred to the Danbury, had only fuelled the fire. And then, Harvey could only imagine, came the first of the articles. Mike's face displayed prominently as he was escorted, in handcuffs, from Pearson Specter Litt the night of his arrest.  
That had been the match that ignited it all, set in motion their terrible plan. All they had to do was wait.

Harvey shook his head. He couldn't get lost in his shame or focus his rage, not when their injuries were so grave. Donna had internal bleeding, broken ribs, a broken arm and a concussion. She also had a number of superficial lacerations and bruises. She  
had to be forcibly removed by the guards in order to extricate her from Mike and transport them both to hospital. She had been sedated upon arrival and had yet to wake. Mike's condition was considerably more grave. A broken hand, shattered skull -  
internal bleeding, bone bruising, a shattered eye socket and a broken femur. He also had a nasty wound, deep and unforgiving, in his abdomen, where Gallo had recycled his weapon used to incapacitate the guard. It had missed his organs by a hair, the  
doctors explained to Rachel six long hours after she had arrived at the hospital. _If it had been any close_...

Harvey couldn't think about that now. Couldn't process his feelings about the grave condition of his associate. Mike had Rachel. Who did Donna have? Harvey had never allowed anyone to get close. The irony was not lost on Harvey that even despite all they  
had been through, when she had been admitted to hospital and they were obligated to dial her emergency contact, it was his phone that spoke of a devotion he did not deserve and a love that he was certain she could not escape from.  
And yet even when she was unconscious, Harvey still needed her. Donna still guided him, the voice of her reason his compass - even at her mostvulnerable, as if after all these years they were so entangled that it would be impossible for one  
to exist without the other. Harvey could only hope that they would never have to test that theory.

 _It had only been 6 minutes_ , he thought. 6 minutes of all his worst fears come to fruition and yet, those moments still pale in comparison to what he feels now, as he takes in her battered face. His chest constricts, once again leaving him with  
the feeling that is now all too familiar - as though his heart is two sizes to small for his body. And maybe it is. Maybe that's what happens when you let somebody in. It just grew and grew and grew until it burst, leaving nothing in it's wake. Had  
he not witnessed that in his childhood home? Had he not been the cause of such wreckage.

Irregardless, he feels certain that implosion would feel like sweet relief in comparison to this insurmountable and indescribable emotion that held his chest in a loosens his tie, letting it fall at his feet and for only the second time  
in 13 years, he allows himself to place a shaking hand against her alabaster skin - wishing above all else that he could absorb all the pain and suffering she had endured. Wishing he could forget all that he had saw and come to know. Inexplicably,  
he can hear her voice in his head, reminding him that between the burden of his rage, fear and guilt are the things that make life worth living - a foundation of trust, loyalty and friendship.

 _Something for him to hold on too._

Harvey had never been a religious man, but today he prayed. Prayed that 6 measly minutes wouldn't take away the two people in the world that he loved the most. Prayed that they held on, even if he had never given them anything to hang on too...


End file.
